


set alight

by Enby_Tiefling



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Autistic Caleb Widogast, Canon Bisexual Character, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing about your narrative foil to get yourself off: the fic, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Trans Caleb Widogast, thank you mr obrien on talks for my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enby_Tiefling/pseuds/Enby_Tiefling
Summary: Caleb has some time to himself, some stress to relieve, and someone on his mind.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 2
Kudos: 153





	set alight

The house is quiet, and Caleb's bedroom even more so with its bookshelf insulation and relative isolation from the others' rooms. If he strains his senses, he can just barely make out the creaking of the tree above him and Jester and Beau's competing snores from the floor below.

Caleb stretches out in bed restlessly, an unnamable tension buzzing through him. His skin almost aches as it brushes against his sheets, his small clothes chafing his thighs. He bites his lower lip, brow furrowing, before snapping Frumpkin outside his door and telling his familiar to keep watch. Then he slowly, slowly, runs a hand up his belly and chest, trailing calloused fingertips along his collarbone.

A breathy sigh escapes him. He presses lightly against the hollow of his throat just to feel the pressure as his other hand travels lower, running along the trail of hair down his stomach and into his smalls. He brushes along his folds, cursing softly at how soaked he already is. His cock jumps at the light touch, hardening as he teases his first finger around his hole.

The sheets feel constricting yet somehow too light, so he kicks them off with a huff. His pulse is racing, the hand at his throat roaming across his torso, chasing the false sensation of someone else's touch. Even two fingers deep and with his cock rutting against the meat of his palm, he feels incomplete, untethered.

His nails scrape a nipple and he imagines teeth, pointed but not sharp. A second pair of deft hands could spread his thighs further, holding him open and putting him on display for bright, hungry eyes. He grunts, slipping in another finger. The angle changes and he loses friction against his cock; he whines but lets it ache, relishing in the denial.

In his mind's eye he pictures _a leather harness around his hips, a toy pressing against his cock while he strokes the hard phallus, slicking it up._

_The body beneath him squirms, whines, pants "I'm ready, please, I need you..."_

"Ja," he groans, twisting his fingers to find his sweet spot. "Like that, ser guht..."

_Essek's legs wrap around him, ankles locking at his back. His length bounces hot and dripping against his stomach, flushed nearly indigo with need. His torso is a perfect, unmarred expanse of deep blue-lilac. His mouth hangs open as he pants, hips jerking as he tries to press down against Caleb. The blunt head of the toy meets Essek's hole and he moans, hands knotting in the sheets beneath him._

_"Please, please, please -" he cuts himself off with a high, breathy cry as Caleb penetrates him._

Caleb's hips buck, a rush of slick coating his hand. He pulls his hand up, fluttering and empty at the loss, and shoves two fingers roughly into his own mouth, tasting himself.

_Essek is flushed and disheveled in his seat. Caleb kneels in front of him, hands braced on the drow's thighs, ready to spread them apart when given permission. Essek's shirt is open, his chest dotted with blooming hickeys, and Caleb can still taste the phantom of his skin._

_One slender, perfect hand reaches forward to cup Caleb's cheek, tracing the bones of his face and jaw before trailing up into his hair. He shivers as Essek's trimmed nails scrape gently across his scalp, goosebumps rising on his skin._

He fucks his fingers deeper into his mouth, barely brushing the point where his gag reflex threatens to trigger. He pinches a nipple before bringing that hand up under his jaw, pinning his head back at an almost painful angle. Cold air brushes past his soaked entrance, reminding him of how tragically empty he is, but his jaw is starting to ache in the sweetest way as he sets a punishing pace down his throat with his own fingers.

_"Go slowly," Essek all but whispers, spreading his legs and pulling Caleb down by his hair. His mouth waters as he undoes the other man's pants and watches his hard cock spring free. He nuzzles against the join of Essek's thigh and mouths at his petal-soft skin. Essek's cock jumps at his closeness, and the man groans his name sinfully as he laves his tongue up the underside of his shaft._

_His senses are filled by the scent-sound-taste of his partner, as Caleb's world narrows to the task of working his way to Essek's base, the head of his cock resting perfectly at the back of his throat. He breathes in hard through his nose, thighs pressing together hard as he settles into a bobbing rhythm. Essek is rendered speechless above him, stuttering and moaning, one hand still deliciously knotted in his hair while the other roams over his face, his shoulders, any part of Caleb he can reach._

Caleb gives in to the ache, finally, and drops a hand to rut against, aching to relieve some of the pressure building in his core. He pulls his fingers from his mouth slowly, pressing down on his tongue one final time. He trails his spit-slick hand down his chest, drawing random shapes that dry cool in the air. He presses his nails into his hipbone, imagining a bruising grip. Rakes his nails up his front in his rush to get a grip on his hair, pulling harshly as he rolls his hips, desperate for release.

_Essek is slight under his mantle, with a gentle roll of fat around his hips from a life of plenty and his spine a bony ridge that speaks of frequent meals missed while working. He moves awkwardly, shy in his nakedness but his eyes are darkened with lust as he props himself up on his elbows and beckons Caleb closer._

_He kisses Caleb clumsily, unpracticed. His teeth catch Caleb's lips, their noses bump, and he doesn't know what to do with his hands. Caleb guides him gently, pulling one pen-calloused hand from where it rests lightly on his hip down in between their bodies._

_"Here," he whispers against Essek's mouth, guiding his clever fingers to his folds. "Like this."_

Caleb fucks into himself, soaked and wanting enough that he nearly manages four fingers, but the angle isn't right and he whines before settling for three and his other hand working his cock hard.

His body nearly jackknifes as he comes, his climax sudden and all-consuming. He feels himself soak what little of the sheets beneath him were left dry. For a few glorious moments, Caleb's head is empty of everything but mindless pleasure.

He settles back into his skin slowly, becoming uncomfortably aware of the stickiness of his skin, his winded breathing, and the overstimulated ache as he withdraws his hands.

He also for the first time really thinks about his fantasies, the face and body and voice that he selfishly used to get himself off, and he feels himself flush with shame even as he goes cold.

Without meaning to he recalls the phantom of Essek's touch, the dreamlike quaver of his voice as he begged, the taste and smell of him that filled Caleb's imagined senses. A low sound rumbles in his chest involuntarily. He squeezes his eyes shut, pinching himself hard enough to bruise, but the visions don't leave him. If anything, revisiting them even so soon makes warmth pool in his belly.

He wants Essek. Badly.

"Fuck," he whispers to his empty room. " _Fuck_."


End file.
